Did I Take a Step Too Far?
by PirateRockstarColumbia
Summary: RENTRHPS. Post RENT. After Mimi died, Roger took off, without any destination in mind. He found himself at FrankNFurter's castle. Now, four months later, that moment comes back to haunt him. Can he own up to his mistake, or will he burn out?
1. Prologue

_**Author's note: Please don't flame! This is my first attempt at Rocky fics, so I'd appreciate constructive criticism!**_

Prologue

Roger looked up from his guitar when the door to the Loft burst open. He had finally stopped expecting his Mimi to burst through the door, but his heart still leapt into his throat every time someone entered the Loft. He expected it to be Mark, or Maureen with yet more problems with Joanne (Roger's typical response to their constant fighting was along the lines of "It must be nice to have someone **to** fight with," which usually shut them up), or Collins, back from his generally constant post at Angel's graveside. What he didn't expect was for someone from a moment in his past to waltz back into his life.

He composed his expression into his usual poker face as the red-haired girl stood in the doorway of the Loft, looking around nervously. Finally, it dawned on Roger what she was waiting for. He almost laughed at his own stupidity. _Three months around your closest friends tend to suck polite manners right out of you!_ he thought. He smiled tentatively at the girl. "Please, come in. Um, excuse the mess. Two guys living alone without a woman around tend to not care about cleanliness. If you can find it, there's a chair. You should sit. You look pale. More than normal."

She nodded. "Roger…"

He wasn't paying attention. "Columbia, why did you come here? That night…I wasn't thinking. I just needed an escape. But I've finally got my life back in order."

Columbia looked at the floor. "I understand that you'd rather I not be here. But you have to understand that I'm here for a purpose. Coming here was a huge risk. I didn't even know if I'd find you. And yes, this is about that night."

Roger paled. "I didn't…you know, infect you, did I?"

"No. Don't worry. I'm negative. But the reason I got checked was because about a month after you left, I started getting nauseous all the time. I was sick, and tired, and in misery. Magenta dragged me to a doctor. He tested my blood, and that came back negative, but there's something else." She couldn't meet Roger's eyes. "I'm pregnant, Roger. About four months now."

Roger's jaw dropped. _Pregnant? She's pregnant? But…no…she can't be…_ "How do you know it's mine? It could be Frank's."

"Because you're the only person I've slept with in over a year. Trust me, it's yours." She finally looked at Roger. He had his eyes clenched shut, and he was pale. "Roger!" Columbia placed an arm around him. "Roger, are you okay?"

Roger barely heard her over the swirl of memories attacking him. He flashed back suddenly to that night over four months ago, shortly after Mimi's death.


	2. A Moment's Impulse

(_**Author's note: Kill that smurf! Tehe!)**_

Four Months Earlier

The car had reached a speed of over eighty, but Roger kept his foot pressed hard on the gas pedal. He wanted to out as much distance between himself and New York City as humanly possible in one night. The radio—working, for once—had been tuned to a classic rock station, and was currently playing Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. Tears streamed down Roger's face. _It wasn't supposed to be like this! She wasn't supposed to die! _

Roger had taken off—after Angel's funeral, he couldn't cope with his emotions and had instead chosen to flee from his problems. He had always meant to return, he couldn't stay away from New York long, but he'd just needed time to deal with everything that had happened. But Mimi, his Mimi, was supposed to go to rehab while he was gone. She had, but she hadn't stayed. Roger had returned to find Mimi missing. When they had finally found her, it'd been too late, and Mimi had died in Roger's arms. Roger couldn't handle it, and he'd left again.

Now, a few hours later, the pain had everything but subsided, and Roger hadn't gotten far enough away for his tastes. The radio was blasting a Hendrix song, but which one it was, Roger couldn't have said. The car was hitting a speed someone in the vicinity of ninety or a hundred, and still Roger kept it floored.

Suddenly, the car bucked, whined, and stopped completely. Roger looked at the dashboard. The gas gauge was on empty. "Fuck!" He slammed his hand on the dashboard. He was in the middle of nowhere without gas. He wracked his mind. _Wait. Didn't I pass a castle up the road? Maybe they can help me? _The more rational part of his brain—the one that was pretty much dead from drugs, but was still working—screamed at him. _Dude, why would there be a castle in New York? Seriously, doesn't that strike you as odd? _However, the side that was voting for a warm place to stay and the chance of possibly getting his car fixed won out. He left the vehicle sitting under a tree—that was as far as he'd been able to push it—and headed off into the darkness.


	3. Running from Life

_**Author's note: The next few chapters are Roger's night at Frank's castle. You'll be warned when we go back to the Loft. (Ding dong, asshole calling!) I'm bad!**_

It began to rain as Roger approached the door of the strange castle. His mind screamed at him, but he ignored it, ringing the doorbell. It was opened almost immediately by a strange, hunched man. He was…there really was no way to describe him. He frowned. "Hello?"

Roger began to rethink his decision. _Be reasonable. If you'd waited in that car, you'd be dead before morning._ He looked at the…butler, was it? and sighed. "Hi. Um, look, I'm really sorry to intrude, and I'll understand if you'd rather I just go away now, but my car broke down about four miles back, and I need a place to stay for the night. Would it be too much to ask for even a couch to crash on?" He realized he'd forgotten his manners, and he extended a friendly hand. "Roger."

The man stared at him, and for a second, Roger wondered if he even spoke English. Then the man tentatively accepted the handshake. "Riff-Raff. I think perhaps you'd better come inside."

Roger followed Riff-Raff into the main entrance. Riff-Raff looked towards the stairway, and a maid appeared—seemingly out of nowhere. "What have we here?"

Riff looked at the woman. "A lost traveler, Magenta. He needs a place to stay for the night."

"Away from him?"

"You think? Perhaps we'd better keep him away from Columbia too."

"Not something we need to worry about. The Master is about."

Roger chose to ignore the finer points of the conversation, though he did catch the word Master. He grimaced. _What kind of place did I wander into?_ he asked himself. Magenta chose that moment to address him. "Did you have a name, or do we just call you 'hey, you'?"

Roger didn't even crack a smile, thwarting Magenta's plan. Instead, he nodded. "I'm Roger."

"Roger. Well, are you hungry? You look half-starved."

"You don't look like much either," Roger retorted. He wasn't in the mood for niceties. He really just wanted to sleep.

Magenta smiled kindly at him, leading him through a side corridor. She placed her hand on his shoulder; he flinched and she didn't notice. "Roger. This seems like more than just a random breakdown. You were running from something. What?"

"None of your business!" Roger was shocked that this woman, a complete stranger, wanted to know about his private life.

Magenta stayed calm. "But you were running. That much is clear in your reaction. You don't want to tell me about it. That's fine, I understand. I'm a stranger. But you can't run from your life, Roger. You have to talk about it eventually. And I've found, personally, that sometimes, it's easier to tell your problems to a stranger than your friends."

Roger turned. He wouldn't look Magenta in the eyes. "I just…it just hasn't been a good day for me. You're right, I am running away from my problems. My friend Angel died shortly before Halloween. I left for Santa Fe. I came back a week ago. For my girlfriend. She was missing. Earlier tonight…" his voice cracked, and he had to take several deep breaths before continuing. "She…she died. In my arms. I…I couldn't take it. So I left again. I just…needed to clear my head…and then the car broke down."

Magenta patted his shoulder. "See, didn't it feel good to talk about it?"

"No." Roger's voice was hollow, as though talking had just put him into denial. "Not really."

"Magenta?" A new voice joined the conversation. "What are you doing? Frank's starting to get angry, waiting for his dinner…who's this?"

"Columbia." Magenta turned, and Roger followed her gaze to a beautiful girl, with short red hair and blue-gray eyes. She looked worried, and Magenta approached her. "Columbia, this is Roger. His car broke down. He needs a place to stay and a sympathetic ear. Would you be willing to help?"

"I do not need a sympathetic ear!" Roger pulled away from Magenta. "All I need is a bed to crash on and a phone in the morning. That's it."

Columbia shot Magenta a worried look before placing a gentle hand over Roger's. "Keep your voice down. If Frank were to find out you were here…"

Roger sighed. "I'm sorry. I've just had a really bad couple of weeks. I'd appreciate it if you would just leave me be for awhile, okay? I'd like to talk, but I need time to sort out my thoughts."

Columbia smiled. "Okay. I'll show you to your room. Magenta…"

"I know. I'm getting his dinner. Roger, are you sure you wouldn't like some food?"

Roger shrugged. "Maybe a bit. I haven't eaten in a while." His stomach growled, and he smiled sheepishly. "A long while."

Magenta smiled. "I'll bring you some food. We'll keep you safe until your car can get fixed."


	4. A Dude Wearing a Corset?

**Three Hours Later**

"…And so I left. I couldn't deal with it." Roger finished telling Columbia why he had left New York. They were sitting on Columbia's bed, with the remains of Roger's dinner on a plate between them. Columbia had her hand on Roger's. She smiled sympathetically at him. "That's awful."

Roger shrugged. "Naw. I've pretty much just had a crappy life. I've learned that you have to deal or burn out. Forget regret."

"Those are great words to live by." Columbia smiled. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Paul at Life Support."

"Life Support?" Columbia was confused. "What is that?"

Roger bit his lip. "It's a support group for people like me."

"People like you?"

"People with AIDS." Roger looked away. "Don't feel sorry for me—and don't say you don't, because I've seen that look so many times in the last year and a half—because I don't need pity."

"I wasn't going to say I felt sorry for you, Roger." Columbia smiled. "You're a strong person; just look at all you've been through. But if you let something like AIDS bring you down, you're not as strong as I thought."

Roger was quiet for a long moment before saying softly, "AIDS is why I lost Mimi. And April." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "D'you think I'm cursed, Columbia? Every girlfriend I've ever had has died. Saylinda in high school; April last year; and now Mimi. I seem to just have horrible luck with women."

"Then maybe it's not a woman you need."

Roger looked at Columbia, whose eyes were widened in barely concealed horror, then turned towards the sound of the new voice. In the doorway stood a man, barely clad. Roger frowned at his choice of clothing—_I don't know what he's trying to say there, but he missed. Even Angel wouldn't have worn that stuff! —_ as the man approached him, smiling. "Well. It's been an awfully long time since we've had such a handsome man in this castle. Tell me, who might you be?"

Roger's frown deepened. "Dude…what?"

The man smiled wider; he looked vampiric. "I understand, my presence overwhelms you. Well, I am Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Do you have a name, or shall I just call you 'dude'?"

Columbia looked at Roger. "Don't tell him your real name," she mouthed. "Make something up. Something he can't trace."

Roger shot Columbia a look. _I will _not _be intimidated by a man in a friggin' corset, God damn it!_ He looked Frank directly in the eyes. "Roger. My name is Roger."

"Roger." Frank smirked—Columbia winced, knowing that look—and looked straight at Roger. "I've always had a fondness for that name. My, but you are a perfect specimen of manhood, aren't you? So very…dominant."

Roger's eyes narrowed. "One: I'm straight. _Straight._ A guy coming on to me kind of freaks me out. Two: My girlfriend just died, so I'm not all that interested in romance anyway. And three? Well, just trust me when I say I'm not a smart choice for a partner. So back off."

Frank shrugged. "Can't blame a man for trying, can you? Well, erm…enjoy your stay at my castle." He walked at, a strange look in his eyes.

Columbia whisked around to face Roger. "You idiot! You don't know what he's like! He will stop at nothing to sleep with you now!"

Roger shrugged. "Yeah, and? If he doesn't want AIDS, he won't sleep with me."

Columbia smiled. "True. So…"

"So what?"

Columbia looked thoughtful. "Are you against sleeping with someone in general, or…?"

Roger's frown deepened. "Columbia…no…it's too risky…" His voice faltered; he was losing this battle.

Columbia smiled softly. "If you're worried about the risks, I've got what we need."

"I…" Roger smiled softly. "If…you're sure…"

"Trust me." Columbia slipped something out of her pocket. "I've never been surer of anything in my life."


	5. After the Fact

**Midnight**

Columbia was asleep on the bed. Roger sat in the window, smoking, watching her. _Man, what the hell was I thinking?_ He couldn't believe he'd just had sex with a woman he barely knew. _Jesus, I'm a fucking idiot. How could I be so stupid? I probably just…_He couldn't even think it. Columbia stirred slightly, and despite himself, Roger smiled. _She is pretty. _Finally, he couldn't deal with it. He decided to wander the castle.

He glanced around at the various paintings and things on the wall. He frowned, glancing at the coffin clock. "What the hell?" he murmured. He shrugged. The castle seemed almost serene at this hour, though Roger knew that Frank was around somewhere. He wasn't afraid, though. It'd be a cold day in hell before he was afraid of someone in a damn corset. He passed by the kitchen, and stopped, drawn—as all humans are—to the sounds of conflict.

Magenta's voice was the loudest. "I can't believe you would put him in danger like that, Riff! If Frank were to find out he was here…"

"And that's why Frank doesn't know." Riff's voice was calmer. "I could never put someone into that kind of danger. Especially someone who's been through what he's had to deal with. But was it a good idea to leave him with Columbia?"

"He needed a sympathetic ear. Columbia was willing to listen. Besides, she alone can handle Frank without violence. If he were to discover that Roger was here…"

Roger cleared his throat loudly, entering the kitchen. "And if Frank were to already know I'm here?"

Magenta looked up. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Insomnia. I've claimed many nights of it in my time. Actually, I'm famous among my friends for how long I can go without sleep. So I decided to explore. Anyway, answer my question. What if Frank already knew I was here?"

Magenta sighed. "We'd do our best to keep you away from him. Why?"

"Because he does know I'm here. I've already met him. And frankly, I don't see why I'm supposed to be afraid of a dude wearing a corset and fishnet."

"He's insatiable. If he touches you…"

"I can take care of myself. Besides, he wouldn't want me. I've…" _Oh my god, what have I done to Columbia? _He must have gone pale, because Magenta put a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Roger?"

He took several deep breaths. "I…I think I may have put Columbia in serious danger."

"How?" Magenta's tone was still gentle.

Roger looked away. "I…I don't even know how it happened. I just know that one minute we were talking, then Frank came in, and the next thing I knew, we…"

"Okay, so you slept with her. How does that put her in danger?"

"I have AIDS!" Roger looked at Magenta; it was clear he was truly upset. "Magenta, I may have condemned her to death! I can't do that! Not again!"

"Again?" Magenta's tone was still even. "It's happened before?"

"Once." Roger looked away. "I…used to be on heroin. Heavily so. And my girlfriend—not Mimi, but before her. April. She was too. We shared needles. She was the one who found out about our condition, but I know I gave it to her. I've always felt so guilty that she died."

"Of AIDS?"

"No. She committed suicide. Mimi died from AIDS."

"You gave her AIDS?"

"No! I didn't want to go out with her until I found out she already had it. I was too afraid to pass it on. And now, I've condemned Columbia to my fate."

"Did you use a condom?"

"Of course we did!"

"Then she'll be fine." Magenta led Roger to an empty room. "Sleep. Riff and I have already brought your car to the castle. In the morning, we'll get it fixed, and you can be on your way. Either home, or wherever."

"And if I want to stay?" Roger wasn't just blowing smoke now. He was serious.

Magenta smiled. "You can't. It's not a good idea. Look, just sleep. We'll talk later."


	6. Guitar Stories

**The Next Morning**

Roger was already up when Magenta went to get him in the morning. He was sitting in his window, a cigarette in his mouth, guitar in his hands. Magenta cleared her throat. "Good morning. Where'd the guitar come from?"

Roger looked up, taking the cigarette from his mouth. "Oh, this? It was in my car. I had Riff get it for me about four am. I couldn't sleep anymore. That's three more hours of insomnia to add to my name."

Magenta sat on the bed, and Roger took a drag on the cigarette. Magenta smiled. "So, you play?"

Roger nodded. "I've been into music since middle school. My friends all bought me my first guitar in ninth grade."

"And you've had it ever since?"

"No." Roger smiled. "That one met an untimely end. I cried over that baby, but I moved on. This baby, however, I've had since my senior year. It's a classic."

"How can a guitar be a classic?"

Roger grinned. "This baby cost me a hell of a lot of money. I actually had to put a down payment on it. It used to belong to Jimi Hendrix. It's one of the few that survived. He was notorious for destroying his equipment onstage. He actually played this guitar at Woodstock."

"So you're proud of it? Do you have any songs?"

Roger shrugged. "Some. None recorded. My band broke up ages ago. After April died, I didn't want to play. Mimi inspired me. I wrote my last song for her. She…died while I was playing it to her." He looked away, taking another drag on the cigarette. "It's ironic, that she died while I was singing to her. Her last memory was at least a good one." He crushed the end of the cigarette on the windowsill, and began to play. "So scared to love/so scared to take a fall/afraid of God and sex/why do I wake up at all?"

Magenta smiled. "Is that Mimi's song?"

Roger laughed. "No. I can't bring myself to play that one for anyone else yet. I wrote that right before April died. I didn't know it would be the last I'd ever play for her, or I'd never have written it."

Magenta smiled. "I see. Well, your car is fixed. You can leave anytime you want to. Do you want to say goodbye to Columbia first?"

"No." Roger shook his head. "No. Just…give this to her." He handed Magenta a folded piece of paper. "That's my goodbye. And if she should ever need me, my address and apartment number are in there. I've done a lot of thinking, and I'm going home. I need my friends with me. So I'd rather not waste time on long goodbyes."

He stood up. Magenta stood with him. "I'll walk you to the car."

Roger laid the guitar softly in the backseat, and then settled himself into the front. Magenta waved, and he poked his head out of the window. "It was great meeting all of you. Thanks for all of your help." He reversed the car, heading down the driveway, and the turned it back towards New York. He was confident he'd never see anyone from the castle again.

_**Author's note: I don't own the lyrics to the song Roger was playing. The song is called **_**The Ringing in My Ear**_**, and it's by Adam Pascal, off of his album **_**Civilian.**__


	7. Questions and Confessions

_**Author's note: We're back in the Loft now!**_

**The Present**

Roger sat in his windowsill, once again watching Columbia sleep. It was the middle of the night, and he was staring out the window. _Dammit. I knew I should have stayed that night. What was I thinking, running away? _

Another, slightly more sensible part of his mind said _Why? Why should you have stayed? You can't have children anyway. They'd be…they'd have AIDS. They'd die before their tenth birthday. But it's too late for an abortion. Now what? _Roger sighed. He needed Angel's advice. Of course, Angel was gone. _What about Joanne? _He smiled in spite of himself. Joanne could always handle a crisis.

He picked up the phone. It was ringing before he remembered what time it was. A sleepy-sounding Maureen answered. "Hello?"

"Mo, hi, it's Roger. Is Joanne around?"

"Yeah." Maureen yawned. "Let me get her for you."

There was a moment of silence, and then Joanne, sounding slightly more alert than Maureen, picked up. "Rog? It's three in the morning. What's up?"

"Sorry. I can call back during the day."

"No, you got me up. What's up?"

"Um…" Roger paused, unsure of how to put it. "I've got a little bit of a problem. Actually, a lot of a problem. See, I got a girl pregnant."

There was a pause. Roger assumed Joanne had just spit out her coffee. Then, he heard her sigh. "Well, there's abortion."

"Too late. This happened four months ago. Right after Mimi died. One thing led to another, and…"

"And she woke up pregnant. Why did she wait so long to tell you?"

"She just found out. My problem isn't the kid. I love kids; I've always wanted one. It's just…"

"Does the mother have AIDS?"

"No, she tested negative. But…"

"Then the baby is safe. Look, get some sleep. Bring her by my office later on, and we'll discuss options."

"Okay. Sorry for waking you, Jo."

"No problem. See you this afternoon. Around four-thirty, okay?"

"Okay. See you then." Roger hung up. Columbia stirred, and Roger looked back at her. She didn't wake. Roger sighed, and left the room.

o0o

Roger was still perched in the windowsill when Mark came out of his room, pulling on his jacket. He smiled nervously at Roger. "You been up long?"

"Never went to sleep." Roger turned to look at Mark. "I've been thinking."

"About Columbia?"

"That, among other things."

Mark smiled. "Look, you'll pull through this. Columbia seems really taken with you. I'm sure you two would be able to raise a child together."

"That's not the point, Mark! I'd never be able to marry her; we'd never be able to sleep together…"

"Obviously you did once."

"That was a fluke. I wasn't thinking!" Roger sighed. "I don't think I can handle this, Mark."

"Roger, relax. You will be fine."

"Mark…I just don't know." Roger looked back out the window.

Mark came over, putting a hand on Roger's shoulder and handing him a cup of coffee. Roger grunted his thanks. Mark smiled. "Rog, you love kids. You said yourself, you've always wanted them."

"Mark, that was six years ago. We were in high school. How do you remember shit like that?"

"I pay attention. Roger, this is your chance. You can have a kid, and he or she can be HIV-free. Think about it."

Roger sighed. "Maybe you're right, dude. Look, you're gonna be late; you should get going."

"Take care, man." Mark grabbed his camera. "See you."

"Later man." Roger watched Mark leave, and then focused his attention on the door to his room. As if on cue, it opened. Columbia walked into the living room. Roger smiled. "Morning. You sleep alright?"

Columbia nodded. "Yeah. Better than ever, in fact. How about you?" She headed for the coffeepot.

Roger was in the kitchen in one fluid motion, lifting the lukewarm pot from Columbia's hands. "No coffee for you. It's bad for the baby."

Columbia shrugged. "If you say so. So, how'd you sleep?"

"Didn't." Roger downed the last swallow of his own coffee. "I was up all night, thinking."

"About me?"

Roger nodded. "You, the baby, us…all of it. Eat some breakfast. We have a meeting with Joanne later to discuss our options."

"Our options?"

"What to do with the baby. Do we keep it, or…"

Columbia frowned. "Or? What or? There's no or. I'm keeping it, Roger."

"Columbia…think about this logically. You see where I live. I can't afford to take care of a kid, let alone a kid and its mother. Besides, I'm going to die, Columbia. I might not even be around to see this kid make it to their fifth birthday! I can't do that to you!"

"So I might have to raise the baby on my own! I don't care, Roger! I want this child!"

"There will be other guys, other children!

"I want this one!"

"What if I don't?"

A shocked silence followed Roger's words. Columbia looked stunned, and Roger couldn't even believe what he'd just admitted. Finally, after a few long moments, Roger turned and grabbed his guitar. "I'll be on the roof. Come get me at four, we'll head over to Joanne's office." With that, he walked out, leaving Columbia shocked and alone.


	8. Options

**Later that afternoon**

Columbia still wouldn't look at Roger. They were sitting in Joanne's office, while Joanne looked over a list of adoption agencies. There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Joanne looked up. "So, you two want options. I can refer you to an agency."

"No." It wasn't Columbia, but Roger that spoke up. "Look, Jo, I'm sorry for wasting your time, but Columbia and I need to talk before we can make any decisions together. Can you give us some time?"

Joanne nodded. "You two talk in here. I'm going to vanish for half an hour. After that, I'll call. If you two aren't done yet, don't answer and I won't come back. Deal?"

Roger nodded. "Thanks, Jo."

After Joanne left, Columbia looked at him. "Do you really want to give up our child?"

"Columbia, I never said that." Roger looked away. "Look, I'm scared to have kids, okay? I do want them, I'm just scared to have them." 

"Why? You'd be a great dad. You're caring, compassionate, loving…"

"And dying." Roger was blunt. "Columbia, I have AIDS. I wouldn't live to see our son or daughter's fifth birthday. And if I infected you…"

"I tested negative, Roger."

"That just means the virus is dormant. You could still have it. And if I infected you, then there's a 98 percent chance that our baby would have it. He or she wouldn't live to see their tenth birthday. I don't want to be responsible for that."

"Roger, that's a chance I'm willing to take. Please, let's do this. Together."

Roger looked out the window. "I don't know."

"Please?" Columbia looked him in the eyes. "Please."

Roger nodded. "Okay. We'll do it."

Columbia's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm willing to try if you are." Roger took her hand. "It'll take some effort on both our parts, but we'll make it work."

Columbia smiled. "Okay. Then we'll do it."

Roger grabbed the phone as it rang. "Jo? We're done, and we've made a decision."

Joanne came back into the office. "Well?"

Roger smiled. "We're going to raise the baby ourselves."

Joanne nodded. "I figured you'd come to your senses, Rog. You'll be a great dad."

Roger shrugged. "Whatever you say, Jo. Come on, Columbia, I'll take you out to dinner."


End file.
